


Oh, To Be a Lesbian in Medieval Fantasy Europe (and Not Know It)

by farrah_yondale



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Pre and Post Timeskip, is this a doroleonie fic or a leonie bullies claude fic? who knows, lesbian supremacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24774688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farrah_yondale/pseuds/farrah_yondale
Summary: Just because Leonie has short hair, acts like a tomboy, feels more comfortable in men’s clothes and has no romantic interest in men doesn’t mean she's a…wait…
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Leonie Pinelli, Leonie Pinelli & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Oh, To Be a Lesbian in Medieval Fantasy Europe (and Not Know It)

“Hey, Leonie, what’s that?”

Claude eyed the stack of letters on her desk. He’d only come in to hand her the notes from yesterday’s class, but Claude, as usual, couldn’t mind his business.

“Nothing,” Leonie responded, not looking up from polishing her lance. “Just tea invites I plan to throw out.”

“From guys?” Claude asked and swiped one before she could slap his hand away. “This is from a girl! Wow, Leonie—” (Goddess, if she weren’t still dizzy from the flu, she’d kick the guy’s ass for taking more of them) “—you’re really popular with the ladies!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leonie snapped, annoyed. She leaned forward and hurriedly snatched them all back. “Just leave, will you?”

Claude, like some kind of street performer, magicked another envelope from his tunic. “This one’s from Dorothea Arnault.” He flipped it over, stretching his arm away without flinching when Leonie tried to grab at it. “I thought she was looking for a rich man to marry. Wonder why she sent you an invite.”

Claude ripped the envelope open. Leonie wanted to kill him.

“Oh, she mistook you for a guy. I think you should still say yes, though. It’d be a pleasant surprise for her.”

Leonie’s mind was still feverish and hazy, too sluggish to have jabbed back at Claude’s nosiness thus far. But finally, her temper boiled over and she burst out, “Claude, may I remind you I’m the one with a sharp object in my hand right now?”

That did it. Claude took it casually, but her rage must have been enough of a deterrent for him to hand the letter back to her.

Claude shrugged his shoulders defensively as he went out the door. “I _still_ think you should say yes.”

“Claude!” And he ran.

Leonie tried to catch her breath.

And sighed. She stared at the opened letter. The nerve of him! Honestly, she was sick, and instead of bringing hot soup or asking about her health, he’d only used the opportunity to pry in her business.

She blushed at the reminder. Normally, she just threw out all her tea invites without thinking about it, but now that Claude had called attention to it, she really _did_ attract a lot of girls, didn’t she? And Dorothea Arnault was very pretty and nice and…

Ugh. What was she thinking? She should be focusing on training! Not letting Claude get inside her head. Leonie stood up to tear Dorothea’s letter in half when she noticed a clear bottle on her desk. She recognized its contents as ground willow, medication to reduce fever. Had Claude put that there without her noticing?

Leonie huffed. So the guy was nice after all. She stopped at tearing Dorothea’s letter. Maybe she should go.

When it came to training and field experience, Leonie came second to none. Physically, she could take a sound beating and get right back up, and her stamina outlasted most of her classmates. When it came to weapons, her experience was as eclectic as it was masterful.

But when it came to tests, Leonie spent most of it sweating over the paper and chewing through the wood of her pencil. That’s what she felt like now, waiting at this tea table for Dorothea to join her, like she was about to bomb a test.

She wasn’t normally this nervous around people. Guys, she could care less about what they thought. Girls sometimes intimidated her, but most of that was relegated to the rich noblewomen in school. They had a superiority complex that unnerved Leonie, but Dorothea wasn’t nobility. So what was she so nervous about?

Dorothea was only a couple minutes late, and when she dithered expectantly by the table, Leonie could have guessed why.

“Hi, Dorothea.”

“Leonie Pineli?” Dorothea’s voice cracked. “Oh.” She sounded disappointed, but she took the seat across from Leonie, anyway.

“I’m sorry, this was stupid—”

“No, no!” Dorothea insisted. Her voice was so smooth, like silk. Like a noble’s. “Sit, please. I’d be honored to have your company. I…” she hesitated, her eyes wounded. “I can’t believe I mistook you for a boy. You must think me rather regressive for assuming so.”

Leonie leaned back in her chair, letting it rock on its back legs. “No, not really. I don’t actually mind being mistaken for a boy. As long as they don’t insist on it.”

“Insist on it?” Dorothea tilted her head in question, her eyes flashing with mischief. Leonie found she liked the way she did that, for some reason.

“Yeah, like. Some people come up to me and try to tell me I’m a guy. As if they know better?” Leonie was smiling and Dorothea laughed. “I guess they see a girl with short hair who’s taller than most girls and think I’m a boy.”

Dorothea closed her eyes and swallowed a sip of her tea. “It’s also your demeanor.”

“My demeanor?”

“You’re confident and casual and very honest. That probably threatens the men, doesn’t it?”

“Hm. Maybe a little. But I’m usually pretty comfortable with guys.”

Dorothea let out a hum of disappointment. “Really?”

“Are they like that with you?”

“I guess it’s different for me. They see a pretty girl and think I’ll be charmed by the most mundane qualities and then they get upset when I’m blunt and not like the demure lady they wanted me to be. With you, I suppose they get what they see.”

“Get what they see?” Leonie repeated, frowning.

Leonie wasn’t exactly offended, but something about Dorothea’s casualness bothered her. Maybe she was just being overprotective or something.

“Can I ask you something?” Leonie asked, gripping her teacup on both sides.

“Of course.”

“Why do you keep going on dates with awful, rich men?”

It looked like Dorothea was trying to decide whether to be offended. Leonie figured tons of people must have asked her the same question. But she wanted to know, common girl to common girl.

“I have to secure my future,” Dorothea explained. “I used to be a diva, but you can’t stay a diva forever, you know. My beauty and voice will deteriorate as I age. I need someone to take care of me.”

“I guess that’s fair. But I don’t really get how that’ll secure your future. Can you really rely on a rich noble to take care of you?”

Dorothea smiled. “And who else should I rely on to take care of me? You, Leonie?”

“Me?” Leonie almost dropped her teacup and blushed. Was she _flirting_? With _her_? What good would that have done? Leonie wasn’t some rich noble. Leonie wasn’t even a guy.

“Relax, Leonie,” Dorothea soothed. “I was just kidding.”

“O-oh. Okay.” Leonie was still blushing and suddenly felt the need to comb her fingers through her hair. She was so flustered, Goddess! Why was her heart hammering so hard in her chest? “Um. Maybe I should go.”

She instantly regretted saying that. Dorothea had been light and teasing for their whole conversation. Now she looked deeply wounded. Had Leonie said something so wrong? She thought they would get along easily given their backgrounds, but they were complete opposites. Leonie didn’t get her.

“If you want,” Dorothea said, voice deflated.

“Um. Okay.” Leonie paused. “Maybe we can meet up another time?”

Dorothea’s eyes lit up again and Leonie was relieved. Okay, maybe Dorothea had just been disappointed. Maybe it would just take a little while to get each other.

“I would love that, Leo.” Dorothea blushed, and only later would Leonie dwell on it. “Oh, can I call you Leo?”

Leonie nodded. “Sure. I’d like that.”

Leonie started to spend way too much of her time daydreaming about Dorothea. At first, it was just the sound of her easy voice stuck in her head. Then she remembered the way she’d blushed and flirted with her, and Leonie started having full-on fantasies. Fantasies about her rescuing Dorothea, disguising herself as a man, running off into the wild. They got more ridiculous the more Leonie caught her eye in the hallways. They didn’t exactly distract from Leonie’s training, but they were starting to bother her.

“Claude, I hate you.” Leonie punched him in the shoulder, expecting him to flinch or complain, but not to crumple on the training ground floor like a flimsy pile of sticks.

“Wow, you’re kind of pushover, aren’t you Claude?”

Claude was rubbing his shoulder, still on the ground when Leonie finally reached her hand out to him. She pulled him up, partly in the mood to fake out and shove him back down again, but the poor guy looked close enough to tears already.

“Now what did I do?” he whined.

“Set me up.” She punched him—much softer—in the side. He tried to dodge, but she threw another fist into his abdomen. “With Dorothea.”

“I thought you appreciated that!” He jumped out of her range to avoid being hit again, however gently.

“It’s complicated,” she huffed.

“Ooooh!” Leonie almost hushed him, but thankfully he had enough sense to keep his voice low. “Do you have a crush on Dorothea?”

“Do you wanna get punched again?”

Shockingly, that wasn’t enough of a threat to get him to shut up. Claude folded his hands behind his head, grinning. “Well, I don’t blame you. Dorothea’s definitely a beautiful young lady.”

“Shut it, Claude,” Leonie snapped. “It’s not like that. I just…feel for her.”

“So you want to rescue her and be her handsome noble husband? I think I could lend you some money for that.”

“Claude!” Leonie kicked his leg. Claude dropped his hands and curled away from her, squealing. “Claude!” she yelled again, and chased after him when he bolted away.

Claude spent most of class snickering every time he remembered Leonie’s crush. Leonie spent most of it punching him in the shoulder at regular intervals. They were quiet enough and the class was boring enough that no one really seemed to be bothered by them, except for—of course—Lorenz.

“I would appreciate it,” Lorenz started in that snobbish voice of his from behind them. “If the two of you could behave properly when we’re in the middle of class.”

“Shut up, Lorenz,” Leonie snapped.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Claude mocked. “Shut up, _Lorenz._ ”

“I don’t expect any better from Leonie, but you, Claude, should at least mind your manners.”

“What does that mean?” Leonie grouched, offended. “Am I a wild animal? You don’t see me on the same level as you?”

“Yeah, kind of classist of you, Lorenz.” Goddess. If Leonie weren’t currently more annoyed with Lorenz, she might have given Claude another punch. He was acting like those little brothers joining in on arguments they knew they could win beside a much bigger sibling.

“It is not classist,” Lorenz insisted. “Leonie is not a noble. Therefore, she has no obligation to behave with poise. You, on the other hand, are. You have a duty.”

“What are you, my mom?” Claude mocked. “Don’t talk to me that way, or I’ll have my bodyguard beat you up.” He patted Leonie’s shoulder, just to make the identity of his “bodyguard” obvious.

“I don’t need you ordering me around. I’ll beat up Lorenz myself.”

The threat and the sound of Leonie’s knuckles cracking had Lorenz clearing his throat and going quiet. Lorenz’s protests ended after that, aside from the occasional pressed glares he deposited in their direction whenever they’d whisper or giggle, which was easy enough to ignore.

After class, Leonie found Cyril with a letter in his hands.

“Leonie?” he asked, stretching it out to her.

“Hey, Cyril,” she said, ruffling his hair. “Thanks. Do you want some of that candy I gave you last time?”

“Yes, please.”

Leonie rummaged into her jacket pockets for some candy when Claude appeared out of the classroom, leaning his elbow on Leonie’s shoulder. Hilda dallied behind him.

“Hey, Leonie, who’s that from?” she asked. Cyril slithered away as soon as Leonie handed him some candy.

“An admirer,” Claude teased, making kissy sounds in Leonie’s direction. Leonie punched him. “Ouch. So much violence in this house.”

“Perhaps there’d be less violence if you set a better example for your classmates.” Claude’s exasperation was palpable at Lorenz’s voice. He rolled his eyes.

“What?” Claude asked. “Jealous Leonie gets more dates with women than you do?”

“First of all,” Lorenz replied, adjusting his uniform, nose practically in the air. Goddess. He was _such_ a noble. Usually, it was somewhat entertaining to eavesdrop on arguments, but Lorenz was so painfully stubborn, all Leonie got out of his dramas was a headache. “I get plenty of dates from women. Second, my criticisms were of _your_ behavior, not Leonie’s so I don’t see why jealousy would come into play here.”

“I don’t know about that first one,” Claude said, and he and Leonie dissolved into snickers.

“And what of you, Claude?” Lorenz said. “I don’t see the ladies falling over their feet to invite you for tea.”

“That’s because I don’t need to send girls tea invites to get their attention.”

Their bickering ended there when Leonie interrupted them with a loud ripping sound. The parchment was thick, of very nice quality unlike the cheap paper Dorothea had sent to her last time. Her handwriting was pristine and curved so elegantly, Leonie might have mistook it for some fancy noble’s important document. And there was the light scent of perfume on its edges.

“Dorothea wants to meet me this afternoon,” Leonie almost squealed and didn’t realize her enthusiasm till Claude was staring at her knowingly. “What?” she snapped, shoving his arm off her.

“Leonie, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you giggle before,” Hilda said. “It’s super cute.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“Dorothea invited you for tea?” Lorenz’s smooth tone might have fooled anyone else at Garreg Mach but all his classmates could hear his jealousy shine through. Claude snorted.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a stick in the mud, she’d invite you, too,” Claude said.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Leonie interrupted. “Dorothea has standards.”

Even Hilda joined in on Claude and Leonie’s titters. Lorenz let out one last “hmph!” before deciding he was apparently too mature for this sort of company. Leonie was glad of it.

Leonie met Dorothea out on the lawn with a spring in her step today. Last time, she’d agreed to meet her out of circumstance, but now, she was actually looking forward to it. And unlike last time, Dorothea actually showed up early, sitting snugly in one of the lawn chairs.

“Hi, Dorothea,” Leonie greeted.

“Hi, Leo, how are you?” Dorothea’s voice was smooth as always.

“I’m good. How about you?” After exchanging niceties, they both went awkwardly quiet. As happy as they both were to see each other, they still didn’t seem to really get each other. Leonie wasn’t sure what to say and she figured Dorothea was also trying to pick out a topic.

Leonie was the first to say something.

“Um…I just wanted to apologize.”

“Whatever for?”

“If I was too…judgmental or…I don’t know if I said something rude?”

Dorothea laughed, so kindly that Leonie’s heart lurched in her chest. “Leo, you’re so sweet,” she said. “I should be the one apologizing. I made assumptions about your appearance and…I didn’t want it to seem like I didn’t like you or anything. I was just embarrassed when we first met.”

Leonie relaxed in her chair, slouching back. “I figured as much. I guess we both got off on the wrong foot.”

“Yes,” Dorothea agreed. “But I really like you, Leonie. I want you to know that.”

Why was her heart beating so fast? She could run around the whole of Garreg Mach a dozen times and her heart wouldn’t ever beat this fast.

“I like you, too,” Leonie admitted. “Even if I don’t get you sometimes.”

In actuality, Leonie _did_ get her after thinking on it a while. Dorothea had been right. Not everyone could be like Leonie and make a life out of fighting. Dorothea hated fighting, and Leonie respected that. Dorothea could fight, if she needed to, something Leonie would find out the hard way soon enough.

Leonie had offered to give her some lessons in using weapons when Dorothea had professed that she was “no good at all with a sword”. Turned out that had been a lie.

“Keep your weight on the balls of your feet,” Leonie advised, demonstrating with a wooden sword in her hand. Dorothea stood a few feet across from her, with her side to Leonie and her sword pointed to the floor. Leonie wasn’t as good with a sword as she was with a lance, but she thought she’d be able to teach Dorothea a thing or two. “You don’t want to step with your heel-to-toe, because it’ll be easier for you to lose balance.”

“And when you strike with a sword,” Leonie demonstrated a few times, sweeping the toy around and over her head. “Don’t just use your arm. Use all your body weight.”

“Like this?” Dorothea asked, imitating her. But she didn’t seem to get it, using only the weight of her arm to swing. Was it just Leonie or was Dorothea batting her eyelashes more than usual? Maybe she was nervous.

“Like…” Leonie shuffled to stand behind Dorothea. “Is it okay if I touch your hip?”

“Oh, sure,” Dorothea replied quietly. Leonie pushed her rear and her hip forward.

“You gotta put your weight in like that. That way, you’ll pack a harder punch when you use a weapon. What?” Leonie added when she noticed Dorothea staring straight at her face. They were hardly an inch apart. If Leonie sighed, it would have ruffled the curls of dark hair on Dorothea’s face, and when she realized, Leonie started to flush.

“I’ve never had anyone be so forward with me, Leo.” Dorothea’s tease only served to make Leonie blush harder.

“Sorry,” Leonie said. “If you’re not comfortable…”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

They turned to parrying and blocking after that. Leonie demonstrated again, Dorothea didn’t get it again, and Leonie was sure Dorothea had spent most of their time batting her eyelashes. Either that or Leonie was going crazy.

“Okay, let’s see you parry my attack. I’ll go easy,” Leonie promised.

Leonie thrust forward and like an animal trap springing up, Dorothea parried to perfection. If Leonie didn’t have such quick reflexes, she might have been knocked to the ground. She reached a foot back and leaned forward, pressing the hilt of her wooden sword against Dorothea’s. All of a sudden, they were equals instead of student and teacher.

“Wow,” Dorothea said. Why did she sound impressed? Wasn’t Leonie the one teaching _her_? “That usually works on the guys.”

Leonie laughed with realization. “You were faking!” Their swords clacked together as Leonie gently hit her away.

“Yes,” Dorothea admitted without a hint of guilt. She was smiling. “You didn’t really think I couldn’t handle a sword, did you, Leo?”

“Well, I had no reason to think you were lying.”

Dorothea giggled. “You’re so sweet.”

“Sweet? How does that make me sweet?” When all Dorothea gave her was another giggle, Leonie said, “Okay, okay! Enough! You have to teach me some of those moves!”

After a few protests, Dorothea finally agreed. Later, Leonie would find out that it wasn’t laziness or a dislike of training, but that Dorothea just enjoyed seeing that determined gleam in Leonie’s eyes.

Leonie liked training, but she’d never wanted to stay more at the grounds than when Dorothea was with her. Training had always felt like a chore—a rewarding chore, but with Dorothea, it felt like she had company over. It felt as relaxing as fishing or lazing around in bed all day, and the time flew. Eventually, Dorothea was called to class and Leonie tried not to be too disappointed to see her leave.

Leonie went to bed that night unable to sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about the sword fight, and every time she did, her face would heat up and her heart would pound excitedly against her chest and she’d be consumed with the energy to run across the lawn dozens of times. She’d think about her chest and Dorothea’s pressed against one another, heaving from exhaustion, and she’d think about what it might feel like if she had just leant in a little closer to kiss her. The thought had her rolling over and blushing in embarrassment. Eventually, she’d dream about Dorothea huddled against her shoulder, feeling warm, feeling safe and it’d be enough to finally quiet her heart and lull her to sleep.

*

It was only after the war that Leonie had a chance to make anything of her crush on Dorothea.

Throughout, there hadn’t been much space to think of such superficial things. There’d been a few times where she’d catch Dorothea while outfitting for battle and her heart would swoon, a few times half-asleep in bed where she’d remember how soft Dorothea’s hands had felt. Beyond that, nothing. She’d hardly even registered it as a crush. Loneliness and stress fueled nostalgia, and Leonie didn’t think of it as anything more than that.

At first.

She had no idea what to do about it. Leonie hadn’t really been interested in men or women before this, which meant she had little in the way of experience. She’d been embarrassed by the fact that she was twenty-six and still ignorant of romance, when women much younger than her were married and had children.

“Hey, Leo.”

And to make matters worse, Claude seemed to have taken his newfound freedom to mean bullying all his former classmates. That nickname was endearing when it came out of Dorothea’s mouth, but Claude had taken to using it mockingly.

“What, Claude?” Leonie snapped, more angrily than she’d really intended, but hey, it was a normal reaction to Claude. She sat up from her bed and watched him sit backwards on her writing desk chair.

“Okay, no need to get defensive—” What he always said right before he’d say the most offensive words possible. “—I was just wondering when you were going to propose to Dorothea.”

Leonie wasn’t sure if she’d actually turned bright red, but she could feel her cheeks heat and her temper flare. She grabbed the nearest object—a pillow—and shoved it right in Claude’s face. “Claude!”

“Ouch, hey! I’m trying to help!”

“Yeah, right.”

Goddess, Claude would have been the worst to ask for relationship advice. Then again, anything was better than nothing, right?

Leonie leaned back on her hands and huffed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know what to do?”

“I mean, I’ve never been with anyone before!” Leonie exclaimed. “I’ve never kissed anyone, I’ve never done any of that! I don’t know how to do this.”

“All right, all right,” Claude appeased, holding his hands out as if to stop her. Then he smirked that big, stupid smirk he smirked whenever he had a horrible idea Leonie was never in favor of. “Lucky for you, I’m an expert in relationships.”

Now that was a good joke. Leonie snorted into a fit of laughter.

“What?” Claude snapped. “It’s true!”

“Yeah, right,” Leonie replied. “Who have you kissed?”

“Many women,” Claude said. “And men.”

“When? We’ve been at war, Claude. Good to know you’ve been kissing people when I thought you were leading us to victory all these years.”

“Excuse me, it was before the war.”

“When we were still students?” Leonie asked incredulously. Somehow that felt like an even worse time to be in a relationship. “Who did you kiss?”

“People,” Claude replied evasively. _Oh_ , it was embarrassing. Now she needed to know.

Leonie crossed her arms. “Who was it, Claude?”

“Hilda,” Claude admitted sheepishly, sounding exactly like the innocently mischievous teenager Leonie remembered.

“Hilda?” Leonie exclaimed, slapping a hand to her face. “Seriously, Claude?”

“What?” Claude exclaimed right back. “I was seventeen. Leave me alone.”

Leonie laughed. “You’d be better off kissing me.” Her bitterness must have been apparent, when Claude snorted.

“You wouldn’t have liked it.”

“Why wouldn’t I have liked it?” Leonie snapped. As if this hypothetical of her and Claude kissing was so offensive to her.

Claude grinned. “I know a lesbian when I see one.”

“Excuse me?” Leonie nearly gagged. “Just _because_ I have short hair, and I’m a tomboy and have never been interested in men, doesn’t mean—”

Leonie went quiet then, realizing what she’d just admitted. Claude looked so _gleefully_ pleased with himself, Leonie wanted to punch him.

“I can’t believe I never thought of that,” Leonie replied, deflated. How could she not have noticed? The war was one excuse, but what about the rest of her life before that? Didn’t kids always know since they were kids who they liked?

Claude must have seen the look of distress on Leonie’s face and for once in his life, extended tenderness to her. He moved to sitting next to her on the bed. “Leonie…” he started, taking her hands. Leonie frowned and mustered the most violent glare she could manage, and he let go. “Okay, I won’t do that.” He settled for letting his hands dangle over his lap. “You know it’s normal for some people to figure it out late. Take Lorenz, for example.”

“Lorenz didn’t know he was gay?” Leonie blurted out.

“He might say the same about you being a lesbian,” Claude laughed. “It definitely explains his fixation with Dorothea when we were in school.” Leonie searched Claude’s face for an explanation. “She’s also a lesbian, Leonie.”

“What?” Someone might as well have tugged a carpet out from under her feet from all the revelations. How could Dorothea be like her? A question bubbled in her mind, and she felt embarrassed to even say it. But it was Claude, after all, and he’d been pretty patient with her ignorance so far. So she said it anyway. “Don’t…I mean…” Leonie blushed. “Isn’t she too pretty to be a lesbian?”

“Leonie!” Claude chided, hand on his thigh, as if he were her mother giving her an earful for making a mess. “First of all, you are very pretty. I know plenty of women in Almyra who’d give anything to have you as a partner.” He blushed. “Second, being pretty has nothing to do with whether you like men or women.”

But Leonie had forgotten all about her stupid question. “I knew coming to you for relationship advice was the worst idea. Instead of helping me, all you’re doing is spreading all the latest gossip.”

“Am not!” Claude protested. “I’m trying to help you! Look, Leonie, you’ve had conversations with Dorothea before. Just talk to her.”

“It’s been five _years_ , Claude.”

“So what? You know women like her find women like you irresistible. She’s probably been daydreaming about how your freckles are stars or whatever for years.”

“Freckles are stars?” Leonie repeated, voice flat, eyes narrowed. “Did you come up with that for one of your boyfriends?”

“No,” Claude said in a voice that conveyed that yes, he absolutely had. “Look, that’s beside the point—”

They were interrupted by someone moaning from outside. Leonie hushed Claude before he could continue and realized those moans were really sobs. Someone was crying. A woman was crying.

Leonie couldn’t stand that sound. She hated it when anyone made women cry, and Claude would later tease her about it being typical of her sexuality and presentation. She searched for the source of it—behind the bushes, near one of the brick walls separating the dormitories and the gazebos. Whoever had chosen this spot had chosen it wisely. It was secluded enough that no one would have found her if Leonie hadn’t happened to be in a room across from her.

She crossed over and was met with long brown hair, spilling over a silk red dress. She couldn’t make out the face of who it was, but as soon as she took a moment to scrutinize the woman’s appearance, she recognized her by her dress alone.

“Dorothea?”

Her head shot up. Dorothea’s face was streaked with tears, her eyes puffy and red from crying so much. The sight would have incited violence in Leonie if it had been _any_ woman, but Dorothea? She wanted to tear Garreg Mach apart for her.

“What happened?” she asked defensively, sweeping down to Dorothea’s level. She leaned her hands against Dorothea’s arms for support, but Dorothea took one look at Leonie and practically vaulted into her arms.

“Leo…” she sobbed. She sounded relieved.

“Dorothea, what happened? Please tell me.”

Leonie gave her a couple seconds to settle down. She held her tight, weeping in silence as she wracked with sobs. What could have hurt poor Dorothea so much for her to cry like this? If anyone had hurt her, she’d….she’d…

Dorothea sniffed and pulled her head up from Leonie’s chest. “It was…” She sat back, still pressed against Leonie’s side. “It’s stupid, really.”

“If it hurt you, I don’t think it’s stupid.”

Dorothea smiled through her tears. “You’ve always been so sweet, Leo.” Her smile fell as she thought of something but she said nothing. “Can I stay here?”

Leonie let Dorothea lean her head against her shoulder. She was so soft, and her shoulder was so smooth against Leonie’s palm. Leonie turned her head away to hide her blush.

Claude was standing at the end of the lawn, and Leonie’s heart sped up in terror. Oh, Goddess. What was he about to do? At first all he did was stick his tongue out and make kissy faces at her, and that would have been enough for her to give him a beat-down next time she saw him at the training grounds. But then he walked over and leaned his elbows onto the bush nestled above them.

“Hi, Dorothea.” Dorothea’s head shot up and she gave him an appeasing smile. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, but I just wanted to let you know—” Leonie was mouthing threats over Dorothea’s head. “—Leonie’s in love with you and she wants to settle down with you.”

Leonie wanted to scream.

“Claude!” She shot up from her seat. Claude giggled and bolted across the lawn. If Leonie hadn’t been preoccupied with Dorothea’s hurt feelings, she might have chased him and tackled him to the ground.

“Is that true?”

Leonie’s breath halted. She glanced down at Dorothea, who was staring up at her wide-eyed, in a way Leonie could never have dreamed of. Dorothea, so poised and elegant, she could have passed for a noble, and for the first time, Leonie saw the common girl underneath. The needy, hungry beggar who desperately wanted someone to save her, who wanted someone to love her.

“I…” Leonie knelt down and swallowed. She’d never been in love before. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to do any of this? All she wanted right now was for Dorothea to stop hurting, even at her own cost. “Yeah,” she admitted, feeling hot. “Well, the first part. We don’t have to settle down if you don’t want.”

For a long while, all Dorothea did was sniff every so often into Leonie’s shoulder. It was torture. It was the longest while of Leonie’s entire life. She wasn’t like Lorenz who breathed poetry into everything he spoke, and she wasn’t a romantic like Claude, but if she had been, she might have found the words to describe the pain of that silence.

“Oh, Leo,” Dorothea sobbed. “This is going to sound so awful now but…” She leaned back, wiping away her tears. “I was just flirting around and teasing Ingrid, but she was so disgusted, I…it hurt my feelings. And I was so afraid to tell you, because I didn’t want you to think the same thing.”

“You just can’t trust the nobility with anything, huh?’

Leonie was pleased to hear Dorothea snort at that. Her laugh was everything. What Leonie wouldn’t give to hear that laugh for the rest of her life.

“I’d like it if you flirted with me,” Leonie said. “And I wouldn’t think you’re disgusting for it.”

“Yeah?” Dorothea reached up and wrapped her arms around Leonie’s neck. “Can I tell you something, Leo?”

“Sure.” She didn’t think much of it until Dorothea bit her lip and smiled mischievously.

“I’d like it if you flirted with me, too.” Leonie’s heart sped up at that. “Can I kiss you?”

Dorothea might as well have punched her gut with the way her question had knocked the wind out of her. Leonie stuttered, “Y-yeah. I mean—if you’re okay with—”

She didn’t have time to explain herself. She didn’t get the chance to ask Dorothea if she really wanted someone like her. Leonie had nothing to her name. She’d never kissed anyone or loved anyone before, and she wanted to make sure Dorothea knew before she committed, but Dorothea didn’t seem to care. Dorothea pressed her lips to Leonie’s, teasing the hair at the nape of Leonie’s neck and pulling her in close.

Leonie was overwhelmed. Her palms were sweaty and her face was probably bright red with embarrassment and her heart was beating so fast, she thought she might faint right there. She hardly had time to register—to act, in accordance with whatever Dorothea was doing. Dorothea’s lips were soft and warm and gone far too quickly for Leonie’s liking.

“Have you ever been kissed before, Leo?” Dorothea stared up at her with those pretty green eyes. There was no judgement in her question, but Leonie still felt a pang of guilt she didn’t understand.

“N-no,” she admitted. “Sorry, I—”

“Why are you apologizing?” Dorothea was smiling. “I just wanted to know if you liked it.”

“Yeah. I liked it.”

Dorothea stared and smiled, and Leonie felt every nerve in her body light up in excitement. Claude was just being annoying when he’d told Dorothea that Leonie wanted to settle down with her, but now Leonie was considering it. She wouldn’t have minded settling down with Dorothea at all. Or following her to some remote country. But for now…

“Ah! Leo!”

Leonie tugged Dorothea close, holding her under the knees and shoulders and picking her up. To Leonie’s surprise, she clung to her like a terrified kitten, giggling all the while. Dorothea had been so forward all this time and now she was blushing and embarrassed like some newly-wed.

“Put me down,” she whispered into another giggle. “Someone will see us.”

By her tone, it was obvious Dorothea wanted nothing of the sort.

“So what?”

Leonie carried her across the lawn, across the monastery and towards Dorothea’s room. Soldiers and residents were staring, but Leonie could hardly care with Dorothea giggling all the way.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing a totally separate fic from Lorenz's perspective and let me just say...switching back and forth from Lorenz's verbose flowery prose to Leonie's colloquial prose was a terrible idea.


End file.
